The Wind and The Sand
by Lifeclaw
Summary: Most people didn't know this, but the Sand of the Sandman, much like the Wind of Frost, was alive. Oh, not in the sense that we know, but it was there- it had always been there. Before the Man on the Moon, before the Sandman, before the Fear, the Sand was there. A spirit of old, a spirit of a different kind. It, like the Wind, had been here for a long, long time.
1. The Wind's Child

Disclaimer: I don't own it! Except for the my characters? Spirits? Meh.

_The Wind and The Sand_

Most people didn't know this, but the Sand of the Sandman, much like the Wind of Frost, was alive. Oh, not in the sense that we know, but it was there- it had always been there.

Before the Man on the Moon, before the Sandman, before the Fear, the Sand was there. A spirit of old, a spirit of a different kind.

It, like the Wind, had been here for a long, long time.

And it, like the Wind, protected it's own.

* * *

The Wind was panicking. The Sand thought that was odd, for the Wind was well- wind. What exactly could it panic about? It's not like the Wind rarely ever bothered to look after the humans, such as The Sand did (admittedly only because _he _did, but that was besides the point) .

A Child? Was the Wind serious? The Wind did not help often, but it could help children on it's own. What did it need The Sand's help for? Oh. Oh! A spirit child. The Wind's spirit child?

_Yes!_ The Wind was screaming, _The Wind's spirit child. Mine to help, mine to protect. The moon said so, the moon said so! _

The Moon? The Moon had given the Wind the task of looking after the child? Like The Sand did _him. _The Sand gleamed with pride for it's friend. The Wind had a child!

_Sad, sad, alone. _The Wind chanted. _What do I do, what do I do?!_

The Sand dimmed. Ah, that was it. The Wind had never had a child. It didn't know what to do. The Sand, shifted, uneasy, think of its own, sad and alone. Crying. "_Why? Why, why, why?" _The Sand shook, shifting. Now was not the time for unwanted memories.

_Calm._ The Sand told the Wind. _Calm. I will get the Sandman, and he shall help your child, yes? He shall keep him company, show him he's not alone. No need to be sad, yes?_

_Thank you,_ The Wind sobbed._ Thank you, thank you, thank you._

_Shhh. He will be there soon. Comfort, protect your child, for he is your own. _

_Yes,_ The Wind whispered, quite now. _H-he is my own. I will do so, like you do. I shall protect my own._

The Sand, if it could, would have smiled. _Good, _it whispered. _Good._

* * *

Man. I haven't submitted a story in a while, but when it hits you it hits hard.

I had a few ideas for this fandom, but nothing that really flowed for me, you know? And the, I'm working on computer programming stuff and- BLAM.

LIGHT BULB! (And guesses we that came from? Here's a hit. Yellow.) The idea hit me and the face, and screamed until I typed it out. I might go ahead later and put a chapter in front of this one, to make it more like a beginning, or I might not.

I'm not the best with spelling or grammar, so go head and help me out if you see an error! :)

Anyway, what do you guys think? I'll try to put another chapter up soon.


	2. The Man in the Shadows

The Man in the Shadows

The Sand was curious. An odd, uneasy feeling was creeping up parts of the sand that it controlled, trying to mix with it.

Something was messing with the sand that the Spirit of Old embodied and was trying to force it to change.

But what?

The Sand turned it's focus away from it's child's job, towards the disturbance. The sand which was used to form the dreams only dimmed slightly, for it was the Sandman who did most the work. The Sand simply helped out.

A few bits of sand that The Sand focused on flew towards a darkened window and peered inside.

There, in the Shadows of the bedroom, was a man. He was tall and pale, with yellow eyes. He seemed to be staring at the dream sand in frustration as he held it in his hand. What was the shadow-man doing in a child's room?

The Sand noticed that the grains of sand in the man's hands were much dimmer than the rest of the sand above the sleeping child. It must be he then, that was trying to mess with The Sand. Stealing from the child's dream!

The Sand sneered. Pitiful shadow-man! How dare he try to mess with it! Ignoring the Shadows, which hissed at the Sand, the Sand gave a strong pull. The Sand used the child's dream sand to smack itself out of the shadow-man's grasp.

The shadow-man yelped, jumping back. He looked around, almost scared of what was out there. Perhaps he was looking for The Sand's child? No matter, Sandy was high above, spreading his gift. The shadow-man looked like he was leaving, so it was time to rejoin Sandy.

With one last look, the pits of sand flew off back towards The Sandman, trying to ignore the look of despair and loneliness on the shadow-man's face as the Shadows slowly closed in on him. It was so like The Sand's child, long before.

But it was not The Sand's problem.

And besides, there was nothing The Sand could do anyway.

Right?

* * *

I picture this being sometime before Jack became the Spirit of Winter. Pitch's first few steps at trying to be seen again.

What do ya'll think?


	3. A Little Bit of Sand

The Man in the Shadows Arc: A Bit of Sand

It was that shadow-man again. The Sand often ran into him throughout the years, though he disappeared as soon as he saw The Sand. Each time he tried to do something with the dream sand.

The shadow-man sat slumped against a wall now, holding a small bit of sand in his hands as he cried. Why was he even crying? The shadow-man always looked rather depressed, but he had never cried before.

A small cloud of sand circled around him, curious. _Why do you cry shadow-man?_

The shadow-man looked up, startled. He tried to back away from the sand, only to hit his head on the wall.

The Sand giggled. _Silly shadow-man!_

The man scowled. "My name is not shadow-man, Sandman! You know this, why do you mock me so?"

The Sand bristled. _ I am not the Sandman! I am a Spirit of Old, The Sand, the one who protects him._

The shadow-man blinded. "I- what? Are you saying that _you_ are literally the sand of the Sandman? That makes no sense- bah! I am talking with _sand!_ What is wrong with me?"

The Sand huffed. _And you are a man of shadow. What of it?_

"I will not sit here and be mocked by _sand_! Bygone, dust cloud!"

The Sand reeled back, socked. How dare he! How dare he! _I AM NOT DUST! _

With an angered huff, The Sand smacked the shadow-man in the face, and speed towards the window. The nerve of some people!

The shadow-man scrambled to his feet, not quite wanting The Sand to leave, despite his words. This was the first person (spirit, thing, whatever) he had interacted with in a while.

"W-wait! Don't go!"

The Sand ignored him.

He tried again. "Don't you at least want your sand back?"

The Sand whirled around, furious with the shadow-man, ready to tear it's self right out of his hands- but stopped short.

He looked so miserable.

Was he really so lonely?

The Sand hovered uneasily near the window, before deciding on what to do.

_No, _The Sand finally whispered. _Keep it. It is just a small bit, it shall not be missed. And perhaps, when you are ready to talk without insult, you can call on me. Be safe, shadow-man, embodiment of fear._

And with that, The Sand flew out the window, off to rejoin it's child.

Back in the room, the tall, pale figure of Pitch Black looked at the sand in his hands and smiled.

* * *

The next chapter will either be about Sandy's reaction to The Sand asking to help the Wind, or The Wind and The Sand first meeting. Maybe. Possibly. Meh, will see.

Anyway, do you guys like the interactions between The Sand and Pitch?


	4. First Meetings

The Wind and The Sand Arc: First Meetings

The Sand let out a low hum as it sat on the beach, lazily watching the waves of The Water crash softly onto the sand.

The Water had informed The Sand that the eggs along the beach were due to hatch today and asked The Sand to help protect the little ones from predators, should they come by.

The Sand had agreed, as it had been The Sand who had helped the mother turtles pick out places to lay the eggs, and The Sand who protected them from being harmed while they waited to hatch.

Now it was just matter of waiting a little longer.

The Sand could feel the little movements of the eggs buried below and glowed with happiness. How proud the mothers and fathers shall be!

The Sand began to shift the sand away from the holes that it was covering, so that the little ones would have less trouble making their way to the water, when a strong gust of wind burst past The Sand.

The sand that it had sifted immediately covered the hole back up- this time with even more sand.

The Sand huffed, and begin moving again, only for the same thing to happen.

What was going on?

A giggle filled the air, and The Sand turned its attention to the space of above it, where the wind was blowing around in an unusual pattern.

It was The Wind Spirit, The Sand saw. The Sand had never spoke to The Wind directly before, preferring to keep to itself, but there The Wind was, whirling around above it.

As The Wind continued to cover up holes though, however unintentionally, The Sand decided right then and there that it did not like The Wind. At all.

The Wind however, did not seem to be aware of that.

_Stop that!_ The Sand snapped as The Wind continued to move the sand around. _Your ruining my work! _

The Wind halted its playful spinning, shocked at the outburst. The Wind frowned.

_What work? You are Sand, what could you possibly be doing that is so important?_

And what was _that_ supposed to mean?! _How dare you! I am Sand, and-_

The Sand was interrupted by a burst of wind which slammed down into its body.

_How rude! Look, I'm just trying to help the-_

The Wind crashed into the Sand again.

_That it!_ The Sand whirled into the air, forming a wall of sand which collided onto the focus point of The Wind. It was a little silly, Sand attempting to fight Wind, but a big enough wall of packed sand could easily trap a bit of wind inside it.

The Wind's focus point shifted under the sand, before bursting out of it with laughter and crashing back down.

_Oh, why you little-_

Back on the shore, The Water sweetdroped at the sight of The Wind and The Sand whirling in the air, slamming into each other and generally acting like new-born spirits.

Below the sand, the baby turtles were already making their way up, happily ignoring the fighting spirits above and making their way towards the water.

_Ah, well._ The Water thought as the first baby turtles dived into the water. _The little ones didn't really need our help anyway._

_._

_._

_._

Many years later, The Sand and The Wind watched as Sandy and Jack whirled around in the air, forming a rain of sand and snow, laughing all the way as they did, and smiled.

* * *

And that my dear readers, is how The Wind first meet The Sand. Silly huh? Oh, and we meet a new Spirit of Old- The Water! Of course this take place a long, long time ago, but there you go. I wasn't sure about this chapter, but I decided to post it anyway.

What do you think about The Wind and The Sand's first meeting?

Oh, and I know I've updated just about everyday but I'll probably be sticking to once or twice a week soon. Sorry, but some of these chapters take a little time, you know? Plus, I'm on winter break, so while it's easy to update now, it won't be later. Ah, the life we live.

Anyway, reviews make me happy, so give me a shout! :) Speaking of shouts, here's a shout out to Falkrem, who is just the greatest friend a gal could ask for. Thanks for everything CD!


	5. Sandy's Help

Hey look! I updated! XD I still don't own Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood though. I own the Spirits of Old though!

* * *

The Wind and The Sand: Sandy's Help

One moment the Sandman had been happily weaving his dream sand, blessing all with good dreams, and the next he was flying though the air so fast that it almost made his head spin.

For a second, he panicked, thinking he had been attacked or something, before he came to his senses and threw out his arms. The sand that had pulled him fell back like a wave, before circling him in the air. It seemed anxious to keep moving.

He scowled at center of the sand, where he knew the Spirit of Old resided in. A question mark appeared above his head.

The Sand, almost sheepishly, point down below, a little ways away from where they floated.

It took him a minute, but he recognized the town in the distance as Burgess.

He blinked. Burgess was a bit away from where he had been before. It wasn't time for sleep yet there. What was he doing here?

The Sand tugged at his clothes, much softer this time, and he allowed himself to pulled to the forest below, next to a lake.

He was about to ask again why he was here, when a strong burst of wind blew past him and swirled around something ahead of him.

The Wind was here too, it seemed. It circled around something on the ground. He quickly realized it was a person and flew over towards them.

He floated above them, unsure what to do. The Sand nudged him forward and gestured towards the person, who he saw was a boy with white hair.

A soft voice rang in his head.

_The Wind asked for our help. Manny has chosen this boy to be a spirit, and The Wind is his mentor, and helper, as I am to you. But he is sad, and alone, with no one but The Wind. A child needs more than that to grow. He has no home Sandy, and The Wind is desperate. Will you not help him, child of mine?_

Blinking the Sandman looked at the boy before willing the sand to pick him up. That was probably the most The Sand has said to him in a while. And so seriously at that- The Sand was usually so playful, that the firmness of its voice shocked him.

But that was besides the point.

If both of the Spirits of Old thought he should help this child, then who was he to defy them?

Besides he mused, as he flew on his sand cloud towards his home, the Spirits of Old right behind him.

He knew what it was like to feel alone.

* * *

I said I would do Sandy's point of view, didn't I? Anyway, this will have a part two, though I don't know if I will posted it after this chapter or not. This chapter was kind of a pain to right, in comparison to the other ones. Ah, well some write themself and others are like pulling teeth. If you seeing any mistakes, don't be afraid to let me know okay? I know I'm crap a this.

This takes place about 40 years or so after Jack is "born", and while that isn't much for say, others spirits, it's a long time for a kid who really only know's his name. Poor dear. The Wind only contacted them now, because for a while it seemed to fine with just Jack and The Wind, but he's tired being walked through, and it's getting to him. A kid needs more than that, you know?

Anyway, reviews make me happy! Happy New Year!


	6. Misunderstandings

The Wind and The Sand

Sandy's Help Part Two: Misunderstandings

When Jack woke up on a bed in an unknown place he quickly realized two things: One, he had no idea where he was, and two, _The Wind was not there._

Jack could handle the first, for he often fell a sleep while The Wind carried him to unknown places, but he panicked at the second.

The Wind had never, _ever, _left his side in all these years. True, the Spirit of Old did sometimes have things to do, but not without telling him, and even then he could always feel a bit of wind circling around.

Now there was nothing.

He didn't even has his staff.

Jack slide of the bed, trying not to panic.

Looking around, he saw that a small desk with a trash can beside it, a closet, and the bed where the only things in the room. The door was in front of him, no more that five feet ahead.

The room was made of...sand?

His fear temporally forgotten, he touched the bed again. It didn't feel like sand, and it didn't come apart when he picked it up the sheets, but it defiantly look like the sand he saw in the night sky. The Wind told him that the Sandman used the sand to bring child good dreams, so did that mean that he was at the Sandman's place? Why would he be there?

He must haven kidnapped he realized. He didn't know why the Sandman would do such a thing, seeing as The Sand was a good friend of The Wind from what he had heard, but if The Wind and his staff were not there then something was wrong.

He need to find his staff. If he did that, he could call The Wind, and then he could get away.

His thoughts became interrupted as a noise came from the left of him. He snapped his head towards the door.

Footsteps.

The Sandman must becoming.

But where could he hide?

.

.

.

.

.

It had been a little while since he had brought Jack here so the Sandman had decided it would be best to go check on the young spirit. As well as give him his staff back - or at least set it next to him.

He had held on to it for safe keeping, but The Wind, before it left to go do errands, said it would be best if he gave back sooner than later. Jack, apparently, did not like being without it. Besides, The Wind had told him that if he woke up in an unknown place, especially without his staff, or it there, he might panic.

Ah, here was the room he was looking for.

Smiling as he open the door, he was startled to see…nothing.

Blinking, he looked around the room. Where could Jack Frost have gone? Could he possibly have already woke up and left?

Turning back around, he went to leave the room to try to find Jack, when The Sand tugged on his sleeve.

Spinning back around, he saw with surprise that Jack Frost was running towards him from out of the closet of all places -

Only to be stunned once more as the child promptly slammed a trashcan onto his head.

Sandy dropped the staff in his shock.

The little winter spirit then pick up the staff and took off out the door.

The stream of signs that followed above the Sandman's head, as he tried, and failed to get the trash can off, can never be repeated in front of young children.

It didn't help that The Sand was laughing so hard that it fell out of the air on to the floor.

The Sandman didn't even recall putting a trashcan in here.

* * *

Yay, part two! Okay, so who saw that coming? This wasn't what I first had in mind for this part, but it was fun. Silly Jack, why did you put a trashcan on the poor man's head? How's he supposed to control the sand if he can't even move his arms because their stuck?

Man, I had way too much fun with that. Sorry Sandy! XD

There will be a part 3, though I don't know if I'll post it this week.

Review please!


	7. The Island of Sleepy Sands

Disclaimer: Still don't own The Rise of Guardians/Guardian's of Childhood

_The Island of Sleepy Sands_

Jack ran down the halls of the Sandman's castle, panicked.

The Wind wasn't responding to his calls.

He screamed and shouted but there was no answer through the bond, no response to his desperate calls.

Why wasn't The Wind answering?

He didn't get it! The Wind _always_ answered him, no matter how far it was, or where.

He could feel his Wind, he could feel their _bond_, so he knew it was _out there_ but where?

How could he away from the Sandman now?

He couldn't even fly with out The Wind…

He skidded to a halt as he came to one of the castle's balconies. The island was huge and completely made of sand. He could hear waves crashing against the rocks below, and in the distance he could see the shore, on the other side of the tower.

From here, on the tallest tower, he could see the Sandman's domain, the Island of Sleepy Sands, in all of its glory.

Ships, dinosaurs, fairies and everything you could ever image took flight among the stars, bodies of dream sand glowing brightly in the midnight sky.

Jack stood in awe as the Sandman's and the Spirit of Old magic weaved the sand for the children around the world, off to bless them with good dreams even as The Sandman himself was not there to watch over it. It was one of the most beautifully things he had ever seen.

For a moment, he wondered why he was even in such as hurry to get away…

A loud screech of rage filled the air, disrupting the amazing show of magic.

Startled, Jack was unable to stop himself as he began to fall towards into the sea below.

The waves crashed into the castle with fury as screeches filled the air once more…

* * *

IMPORTANT: How do you guys feel about OCs? I know that the Spirits of Old are technically ocs, but I'm talking about others, for the plot. None are likely to show up for a while, but still, let me know.

Anyway...

:) Double update! Plus, a short story at the end of the next chapter! Review and go, go, go!


	8. The Demon Trashcan

Disclaimer: I still don't own The Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood. How sad.

By the way- small spoilers regarding the books in this chapter. You've been warned.

_The Demon Trashcan_

Most people who knew the Sandman would describe him as a calm, sweet man who was one of the most powerful spirits of all.

He was wise and always had a smile on his face.

The Nocturnal Magnificence, Sanderson Mansnoozie, Sandman the First, Lord of High Protector of Sleep and Dreams!

First of the Guardians of Childhood!

* * *

Sandy, for his part, didn't really care about his tiles at the moment.

Nor was he smiling or feeling clam.

Why? The trashcan! Because by the stars, he_ hated_ this trashcan on his _head_!

He tried and tried to get it off, but still it stayed, _it wouldn't come off!_

After the first ten minutes, there was honestly only one conclusion he could think of as to why the trashcan wouldn't come off.

This - this _thing_ from hell that wasn't a trashcan at all! Yes- yes that was it! It was _fake, _a demon in disguise!

And why must this be true?

Because he_ was the Sandman damn it _and_ it should not take this long to get a simple trashcan off his head!_

_._

_._

_._

_._

Twenty minutes later, his sea shell helpers found him, still trying to get the _thing from hell_ off.

Thankfully, with their help, he finally manged to get it off, although by then he had bumped into several objects (his pretty sure he broke some sort of vase), ran into a few walls, and tripped over The Sand laying on the floor.

But back to the matter at hand.

Apparently, the sea shells had discovered a problem and had tried to fix. Finding that they could not, they went to find him to ask for help- which is what lead to them finding him stuck in that _thing._

And now? Now he was staring the problem.

Staring at floor.

Which was currently covered in ice.

As a matter of fact, so was the stairs. And the walls. And the doors. And for that matter _the rest of this entire part of his island._

On the bright side, The Sand seemed to have finally stopped laughing and had lifted itself off the ground. Now it was circling the trashcan demon from hell, drawing the Sandman's attention to it.

He had forgotten that it was there.

He had felt a rush of happiness flow through him when the thing came off, and had jumped in the air with joy and a silent laugh, but now he stared at it with an uncharacteristic hate.

So what did he do?

He picked it up with dream sand and slammed it repeatedly in to the ice-covered floor.

Giving a satisfied look at the now crushed trashcan, he turned to face The Sand, ignoring feel the stares.

What?

He didn't do anything wrong. He had done the world a favor. What if the demon trashcan tried to attack someone else?

The Sand scoffed in disbelief. _Wasn't it the snow-child who made it "attack" you?_

The Sea shells, seeing that they weren't going to get any help at the moment, decided to come back later.

Sandy was having moment, it seemed.

He ignored that the all of them.

And besides, even though Jack did do it, that thing was evil. EVIL. And Jack- Jack had been scared at the time.

Sandy felt no anger towards Jack- it was not in is nature (the thing didn't count).

Speaking of which - where was Jack?

The Sand seemed to pause at the question, the mass of Sand spreading out slightly as it reached out with its senses for the boy.

With the Island being made of sand, it didn't take it that long for The Sand to find him.

Suddenly, without warning, The Sand shot out of the room like a bullet. Sandy, wide-eyed, used the dream sand to follow right behind it, dread filling him. Was Jack okay? Did something happen?

When they finally arrived to where to the balcony where Jack fell, The Sandman covered his mouth with his hands in shock, staring at the scene before him.

_Jack!_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

Bonus! Short Story! In Celebration for Linda Chicana

Jack's Adventure

A soft, beautiful voice sang the Song of Dreams*, filling Jack's heart with joy.

He couldn't believe it! Sandy had told him he could visit them, here on the Island but...

A real mermaid! Right in front of him!

As he listen to the mermaid's song, he remembered when he first heard of mermaids, a little while after he had been "born".

The Wind had told him all about mermaids and he had dreamed of one day meeting one, asking again and again to hear about them.

After hearing about so many _wonders_, and the _adventures_, and _fair maidens _that married the heroes, along with the tales of the mermaids, he could remember acting out his a "adventure" of his own.

In childish glee, he had pretended to have a been asked to go on 'daring rescue' to save a mermaid. He had imaged _dolphins_, and _evil pirates_, and _dangerous missions, _and he acted it all out in his excited. And at the end he had fought the evil villain and won the mermaid's hand in marriage. It had been perfect in his mind, because, really, what better adventure could there be than _saving _a _real_ mermaid and marring her?

Mother had giggled so much that he had felt embarrassed and didn't talk for the rest of the night.

He had to admit, he felt a little silly now, staring at the mermaids. For all their beauty, the mermaids was no damsels in distress. He had seen what they could do with those spears of theirs.

Why would one of them chose him to marry anyway?

He still wanted a kick-ass dolphin sidekick though.

* * *

* Song that the mermaids sing in The Sandman picture book.

I wasn't going to put the last part, buuuuuttt...

Linda Chicana sent me a pm a while ago, asking if she could borrow the Water Spirit. She said it inspired her to write her own story, and I agreed to let her use The Water. And guess what? She published the first chapter just the other day. Yay! In celebration, I added this little story I wrote awhile back. Go read it! It's called _'Of Crashing Waves and Hearts Despaired'_. I love the story so far, but you got to go read and review for yourself. The Water would like if you did too, I'm sure.

Anyway, how did y'all like the chapter? Let me know if you see any mistakes.


	9. The Keeper of Old

Disclaimer: I still don't own!

_The Keeper of Old_

For a moment, Sandy thought he was seeing Pitch.

He had covered his mouth in horror, seeing only black hair, a black robe, and Jack hanging loosely in a Spirit's grip, who was giving Jack a wide grin full of sharp teeth.

What was he to do? He could not attack without hurting Jack…

And then The Sand let out a shout of happiness and he blinked.

It was not Pitch.

It was a women.

A women with blood-red eyes held Jack by the collar of his shirt, her grip the only thing keeping Jack from falling into the rocks below. It looked as though she was floating, but he could see the shimmer of magic keeping her up.

The Wind whirled around them, happy to see its child, and Sandy felt surprised that he had not noticed the Spirit beforehand.

The women seemed was speaking to Jack, though what they talked about he could not hear.

Through the bond, he could feel The Sand's glee at seeing the women, and he idly wondered why the Spirit of Old was so happy.

It took him second to figure out, but he realized that the women before him was someone he had met before - a long, long time ago.

The Keeper of Old.

A Spirit of the Old days, who kept the secrets of the world locked away, and guarded them furiously with her magic and life.

The Keeper, The Sand had told him, was a Spirit of Old- like The Sand- and yet not.

Whatever that meant.

The Sand had been vague in its explanation, and the most he had gotten out of The Sand was this:

The Keeper was one of the oldest spirits to walk this earth and held many secrets about the old ways. Some of the secrets weighted heavy on her, and from time to time when her strength or will faltered, the burden apparently became too and much would consume her. It was actually during one of those times that he had first meet The Keeper.

Why this happened, The Sand would not tell him, but the spirit did tell him it was best at these times to avoid the The Keeper.

Despite this, The Sand held nothing but respect for The Keeper, and in turn he tried to keep an open mind when it came to the Spirit of Old despite their first meeting.

The first meeting had not been the most pleasant of meetings.

The Keeper he remembered meeting had a wild, almost feral look to her. Her short black hair had spiked out in every direction, and her eyes had been black with rage.

The Keeper had been struggling, though with what he was unsure. He had tried to help her only to be meet with such fire and anger for his actions. She had cursed and yelled at him, demanding that he leave her be. She attacked him several times, and he suspected that if The Sand had not noticed his distress things would have been much, much worse.

He didn't know if it was The Sand, or something he did that made her stop but at one point simply just froze mid-attack.

The horror and shame that crossed her face surprised him, and she quickly flew off.

He had only seen glimpses of her since.

The women before him however showed no signs of her pervious anger.

If anything, she looked slightly uneasy at her surroundings, though her eyes held nothing but warmth when she looked at him.

He had thought perhaps she would still be angry, though they had not directly seen each other in decades. In fact, he full expected her to attack him.

Rather silly of him, he supposed. It had been a long time and The Sand had said most of the anger was not from The Keeper herself.

The Keeper smiled at him, amused, but still looking uncertain.

"You know Sanderson, when The Wind told me that it had left Jack in your care, I didn't suspect to find him falling off the side of your castle."

Here she paused, looking a bit sheepish.

"All though I believe Jack's fall was partly my fault. The mermaids have never liked me after our first meeting and I did not responded in the best of ways to their anger when I arrived...Their screams of anger towards me as a result startled Jack…," she trailed off gesturing down below.

Sandy looked down where she pointed and he was startled to see a least half a dozen mermaids hissing and snarling at The Keeper with a fury he had not seen from them before. Several of them had their spears out and were pointing them up at her.

Looking back up, he blinked.

The oh-so wise Keeper of Old was making faces at the sea dwellers.

Who were most certainly not amused with The Keeper's actions.

Jack's laughter only seemed to encourage The Keeper.

The Keeper had grinned sheepishly at him when he gave a silent huff of amusement.

Thankfully, the mermaids seemed reluctant to throw their spears with Jack still in The Keeper's grip, though he knew they all wanted to.

The Keeper coughed, running her hand through her bangs. Her short black hair gleamed in the moonlight and he noticed it was no longer wild-looking but straight and neatly held in place.

"Right. Anyway, The Wind was helping me with some favors, when it felt Jack's panic. We flew over here, but now I see it's not much to worry about soooo…"

The Keeper set Jack back down on the balcony and handed him his staff back. She then gently settled down on the balcony herself. Turning towards Jack, she gave him a smile.

"Remember what I said okay? If there's anyone in the world you can trust, it's Sanderson. He means you no harm, and while it is…amusing to hear about trapping him in a trashcan," here, Sandy scowled. "If you give him a chance before making anymore judgments, you'll see he really means no harm. Okay Jack?"

Jack ducked his head down, almost a shamed, before nodding. "Yeah I guess I over reacted a bit…I'm sorry Sandman."

Sandy blinked, then beamed at the boy. Jack ducked his head back down, embarrassed, though he grinned back at the Spirit.

"Ah…speaking of apologizes. I- that is to say that-," The Keeper sighed.

Confused, Sandy looked back at The Keeper.

Sighing again, The Keeper gave a deep bow, before standing backup. She looked extremely serious, and spoke in a tone filed with shame.

"I feel as though I too must apologized for my actions. I behaved rudely when we first met, and quite frankly it was unbecoming of me. You did not see me at my best, and I thank you for calming be down. I am still not completely able to cast away my anger, but I have done well in the past few decades. I have worked hard to change since then, and I believe that much of my success now is greatly due to you. That being said, I…am deeply sorry Sanderson for my actions towards you, and hope that you could find it in you to forgive me. I…I would like to clear the air between us and become friends."

He could tell she was way out of her element here.

It looked as if The Keeper fully expected him to say that he did not forgive her, and that he would tell her to go away.

How silly! Sandy laughed, amused. He had forgiven her long ago, not one to dwell on such things. Why was she so worried?

She looked shocked for amount, and a little hurt, but he shook his head and smile. He had not meant to offend her.

A board appeared above his head, written with symbols and the word Keeper. His sand then wiped it clean, and he smiled again. He held out his hand.

All was forgiven.

In the back of his mind, he could hear The Sand give a low pleased rumble.

The Keeper blinked, surpised, but shook his hand. She looked slightly flustered at the contact, and a light blush spread across her cheeks.

Pulling her hand back, she smiled.

"I think that you and the other Spirits of Old are the only ones that still call Keeper." She looked amused again, though the blush was still there. "I am glade to call you both friends. I best be going now."

They both nodded and smiled back.

"It was truly a pleasure to meet you both."

The Sand and The Wind curled around as she went to leave.

Laughing, she ran her hands through the sand and the wind, before sticking her tongue at the mermaids down below, who screeched in response.

One actually threw her spear at the Spirit, and while he scowled a the sea-creature, The Keeper actually laughed when she dodged and it missed. She seemed to think their actions were hilarious.

She gave one last wave before disappearing into the night sky, which was slowly turning into dawn.

Jack was safe, The Wind was back, the trashcan was dead, and he had made a new friend with a spirit who he thought for years had hated his guts.

All in all, not so bad for the days in the life of the Sandman.

* * *

We won't be see much of The Keeper of Old for a while, but I thought I go ahead and introduce her.

What did you think of The Keeper? Bad, good, meh? I know I said I wouldn't put ocs in for a while, but I thought it would be best to go ahead and introduce her-along with, slowly, the other "Spirits of Old" as well. A part of the plot and all.

Mostly going to focus on Sand and Jack for the next few chapters though- them figuring out how to inter act with each other, becoming friends, help Jack with his insecurities and so on. Tell me what you think of everything, and let me know if you see any errors!


	10. Not So Bad After All

_Not So Bad After All_

The next week after everything was said and done was one of the most awkward moments in Sandy's life.

While Jack was no longer trying to 'escape' from the Island, there were still a bit uneasiness between them.

Sandy would walk in to a room and Jack would quickly make some excuses about having something he needed to do and leave.

Sandy would try to talk to Jack, and Jack would act stiff and polite the entire time.

The Sandman knew it was just around him too. Jack got along fine with The Sand and the sea shells, and he knew the boy adored the mermaids.

The mermaids adored to boy too, if their gushing about how cute the Spirit of Winter, and prideful remarks about how the boy always praised them had anything to say.

Sandy sighed.

To be honest, he just wasn't sure what to do.

True, he helped kids all the time, but he didn't really…directly interact with them much.

Putting children to sleep and protecting them with dreams throughout the night doesn't really leave much room for one-on-one interaction.

So, when it came to Jack who was basically an immortal teenage with a lot of insecurities well- what does one say to a Spirit child who as been on his own for so long?

It's not like he could do what he did with the few children he did interacted with. While Jack like his dream-sand creations, he doubted simply putting Jack to sleep after a few words- or pictures as it was- of comfort would work.

On the bright side, the fact that Jack kept coming back when he went out to spread winter and that he got along with the rest of the Islands inhabits was a good thing. It meant that while things weren't exactly solid between them, he still trusted Sandy enough try, or at least be comfortable with the Sandman's domain for it to be- maybe not something Jack would call home, but at the least something he saw as a place of refuge for him.

Or at least, that's what The Wind had told Sandy.

Jack had kept the room Sandy had put him in when he first brought Jack to the Island and he would often spend a lot of time in there when he was on the Island.

Sandy had only seen inside the room once since Jack decided to stay, and the sculptures of ice Jack had throughout the room where beautiful.

He thought he had even seen a sculpture of himself among them, but Jack had closed the door in embarrassment before he could get a good look.

Now the Sandman sat on a cloud of sand, high above his castle, as he thought about what to do.

Sighing, the Sandman decided he think on it more later. It was almost time for him to head out again for the night, and he didn't want to be late. Nightmares tended to take that as a sign of 'it's time to scare'.

Rising his arms into the air, he willed the dream sand to come to life.

All around him beautiful creations of sand began to form, creating once more an orchestra of sand images like the night that Jack fell of the side of the castle.

The Sand whirled among the images, letting out a pleased hum as it swirled among the dream sand.

The Sandman was about to create a plane to take off in, when The Sand tugged at the back of his mind.

_Look, _It whispered.

The Sand gestured down below, towards the castle.

Turing towards where The Sand pointed, Sandy found himself surprised to see Jack standing at the same balcony as the one the boy had fallen off only a week ago. Jack was looking up at the sky with awe, and for some reason it made Sandy feel a surge of pride as Jack looked at his creations with such amazement.

Smiling, the Sandman willed his dream sand down towards Jack.

With wide eyes, Jack reached out and touched the sand, letting out a delighted laugh as the dolphins burst out of it and circled around him.

Jack flew up into the air, created a sort of dance with the dolphins as they all flew together in the sky, weaving in and out among the dream sand creations. The Wind, which had been settled next to Jack, flew towards where The Sand was focused and the two began their own dance.

With a laugh, the Sandman clapped his hands and beamed up at Jack, who seemed to just now notice him.

Looking surprised, Jack's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry Sandman, I was just-"

With another laugh, the Sandman shook his head, and patted the space on the sand cloud next to him.

Looking confused, Jack did as he was told after The Wind nudged him along. He flew down to sit next to Sandy, with the dolphins of dream sand following close behind.

With a smile, Sandy recreated a mini image of the dream sand creations that were all around them. In the middle of the mini-creations was Jack and Sandy, flying on the dream sand cloud sending dreams towards the children.

Blink, Jack looked shocked for a moment.

"You want me to go with you on your rounds?"

Beaming at the fact that caught on so quickly (unlike the Guardians, who never seemed to quite understand everything he said, even after so many years) he nodded.

Jack hesitated, but finally nodded. The boy grinned.

"Sure, if you want me too. Just don't expect me to stay still the entire time or go with you to the warm areas, okay?"

Laughing once more, the Sandman raised his arms and the cloud of sand flew in the sky, speeding towards the place where it was time to spread the dreams.

Behind them, The Wind and The Sand giggled as they weaved in and out of the dream sand creations, which where following right behind the cloud like a marching parade of sand.

Letting out a laugh of his own, Jack threw his hands up in the air as they speeded through the night sky.

Sandy smiled, amused, and threw his own hands up, willing the sand to go even faster as he did, silently laughing with Jack.

Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't be so bad between them after all.

Beside him, Jack turned to looked at him and grinned.

Yes, the Sandman thought.

Not so bad after.

* * *

Sorry for the delay! I know I usually update on Friday's, but oh well. What did you all think? You know, I realize I use passive tense (the website likes to point that out a lot) but I just feel it fits, you know? It also often thinks I'm trying to say 'world' when I write 'whirled'. Silly website, The Sand doesn't 'world' around, it whirls. XD

Next week's chapter: New spirits, realizations, and a flashback at Sandy's first meeting with the Keeper.

Let me know if you see any mistakes! :)


	11. Darkness on the Inside

Warning! Keeper's gone off the bat end, so _things are going to get DARK. _You've been warned.

_Darkness on the Inside_

The Keeper was running through the woods with a wicked grin on her face, her fangs glinting in the moon light.

_Kill, kill, kill._

Her prey was afraid.

_Run, run, run._

Letting out a bark of laughter she ran faster towards the huffing breaths of the boy in font of her.

She had warned him- oh, how she had warned him.

Regardless, she loved the trill of the chase, the breaking of the bones, the satisfaction of blood.

She could not wait to catch this prey.

_We're getting close, we're almost there!_

Hysterical laughter bubbled from her lips, and in the back of her mind she could hear her fellow Spirit of Old howl in agreement.

Oh, how they both loved the chase.

_He dared to bother us, dared to mock us! We will teach him a lesson!_

Finally catching up with him, she let her staff materialize in her right hand and swung at him.

The blades, which surrounded the orb at the top of the staff, sliced at his arm and the young spirit howled in pain. He tripped and fell with a harsh thud.

_Finally! Go for the kill!_

She giggled as she stood over him, her now black eyes gleaming in the darkness of the woods.

"Silly, silly, boy. Did you think you could keep poking a lion and not expect to be attacked, Insanity?"

She giggled again, grinning.

"Spirit please! I was only trying to-"

Her the wooden end of her staff crashed down on to his stomach, and he let out a gasp of pain as the wind was knocked out him.

She glared at him with such hatred that it chill his spine.

"My name is not Spirit boy! I am the Keeper, Prison of The Darkness, and you will do well to remember this in the afterlife!" she spat, hissing with rage.

She hated when the others refered to her as simplely 'Spirit'. It made her feel as though she did not have a name, as though she was unwanted...

"Time to die!"

With gleeful hatred, she swung her staff down, aiming directly for the spirits heart- only to have her staff hit the ground with a _clang. _

Sand- golden, beautiful sand had reached down from the heavens and saved the Spirit of Insanity from further harm.

The Keeper saw none of this though.

The Spirit of Old inside her had clouded her vision, allowing her to only see shades of gray.

The pure darkness contained no colors, after all.

Snapping her eyes up, she bared her fangs and glared at the Sandman who had swooped in and taken the her prey.

Rage filled her.

How dare this little puff-ball of sand tried to get between her and her prey?

Inside her The Darkness roared in agreement, demanding that blood be spilled for the intrusion.

With a roar, she launched herself up into the air at him, her magic flaring around her in response.

The Sandman quickly used sand to send the injured spirit away, and immediately after flew out-of-the-way of the attack.

It was like a game of cat and mouse.

She would try to hit him with her staff, he would throw out his sand to block and dodge.

She would land a hit, and his whips would slam into her the next moment.

It felt like they had were going on for ages when in reality they were moving like quick blur, in a matter of minutes- The Keeper getting madder and madder as time pasted while the Sandman was visibly slowing, losing the energy to keep up.

With an unexpected move, The Keeper finally seemed to get the upper hand…

.

.

.

.

.

The Sandman's eyes widen as The Keeper's staff came in too fast for him to block. He closed his eyes to prepare for the blow-

Only to open them in shocked as a loud clang sounded through the clearing.

All around him a barrier of steel-like sand protected him from harm, and he felt relief flood though him.

The Sand had arrived.

And it _was not happy_.

With a scream of anger at the attempt of harm towards its child, The Sand barreled towards the Keeper, its fellow Spirit of Old, in rage.

Before The Keeper could even have time to move, the sand used by the other Spirit of Old whipped out and slammed her into the ground with a loud _boom_. The Keeper's staff dematerialized on impact.

A creator was formed into the ground and dust flew into the air.

With a groan, The Keeper climbed out of the hole, her face looking down at the ground as she caught her breath.

Sandy tensed, wait for her to strike back. The Sand restlessly floated around him.

She looked up.

For a moment- just a brief moment he saw confusion in her eyes. She looked unsure, and noticed with a start that her eyes had bits of red in them.

"What have I-" she cut off, clenching her head in clear pain.

Confused, he cautiously flew a bit closer towards her, despite The Sand's warnings not to.

The Keeper was now on the ground, fisting her hair in her hands in pain.

Her eyes snapped up as he came closer, and she shook her head rapidly at him.

"No! Don't get any closer! I don't-"

She screamed as a dark aura consumed her, bleeding out from her skin.

Thought the bond, he could feel The Sand's anger turn to worry.

The Keeper may not be herself at the moment- but she was The Sand's friend.

Hesitantly, Sandman reached out to touch her.

What pained her so?

The Darkness around her instantly warped around him and The Sand, and he panicked as it slowly spread around them in a chock-hold.

He could feel The Sand desperately trying to break free through the bond, through to no avail.

The Keeper looked up, and he was shocked to see that her eyes were even blacker that before.

"How cute." Her voice had taken a darker tone, and her hair had spiked out even more.

"You where concerned! For me! For us!" Hysterical laughter filled the clearing.

Her eyes snap back to his- and then she threw him and The Sand a cross the clearing into a tree, The Darkness still binding them.

"But you interrupted my hunt, I'm afraid. That is something I can not forgive."

She was walking slowly towards him now, and he struggled to get up.

She kneeled down beside him, looking coldly into his eyes.

"And now?," she began as she reached her hand out and wrapped it around his neck, lifting him up by the throat.

"Now you _die._"

He could hear the crackle of something darker echo through the clearing as he struggled to get loose.

He was slowly losing air.

He thought of The Sand and The Wind.

He thought of The Guardians, and Pitch.

He thought of The Children, of the Stars, and the Moon.

But most of all?

He thought of The Sand's tales of a women with who was brave beyond belief. A women who would sometimes lost her strength under the pressure, of a women whom The Sand insisted was to be honored.

A women who was now choking him…and would wake up later only to realized that she had killed her oldest friend and the one her friend considered its child…

He closed his eyes as tears ran down his face…

She would never forgiven herself…

* * *

...This chapter went _way_ off its original outline/planing/whatever. But you know?

I liked how it turned out.

A lot.

Though I feel like a b for leaving at a cliff hanger...XD Anyway, what did you think of this chapter? Was it what you though it was going to be? Two new spirits in this one- The Darkness, which The Keeper keeps locked inside her, and Insanity. More on both next chapter by the way. And Sandy- dude, your heart got be the size of Texas (lol, three guesses on where I was born XD). But Seriously little guy. Your heart's huge.

Review please and let me know if you see any mistakes! :)


	12. Golden Sand

Disclaimer: I still don't own the RotG or GoC.

_Golden Sand_

His tears were gold…

She hadn't noticed at first, in the haze of her anger, but the tears that flowed down his cheeks were a beautiful golden color.

She watched, fascinated, as the tears slowly traveled down his face, lighting up her vision of dark shades of grey.

She never noticed the Sandman's look of confusion at her stare of fascination, never noticed that she had let go of his throat, in favor of staring at the new wonder of _gold._

Wherever the tears touched, beautiful gold followed, and she was startled and amazed at the sight.

Even The Darkness watched with rapid attention color slowly filled their world.

Rising one of her hands, The Keeper wiped a way a tear, and watched in awe as she too began to have color.

She flicked her eyes back up, and with a start she realized that The Darkness had fully let go of the Sandman and The Sand.

The Sand was floating around the Sandman now, in protective hover.

They were both golden now, she saw. Where they had been shades of grey in her mind as she tried to kill them, now they were both a stunning gold sand...

Gold…

Sand…

Gold sand…

_The Sand,_ The Darkness breathed in realization, for the first time truly _seeing _just who it was they had attacked.

_I…we….we attacked The Sand? The Sand…oh by the Stars, we tried to kill The Sand and its child…_

Horror filled The Darkness's words, and she felt just as horrified at the realization.

The anger faded away, an it was as though a cloud had been lifted from her eyes- which were slowing returning to their usual red color. Her mind cleared, and she could feel The Darkness's own senses slowly return from its blood-lust.

They had attacked The Sand…the Sandman….and Insanity.

Insanity! Where was the younger spirit now? Had she killed him? Was he was alright?

Horror and shame flowed through The Keeper and The Darkness. The Keeepr quickly backed away from the Sandman and The Sand.

Why? Why had they done such horrible things?

She…she need leave, she need to find Insanity and see if he was okay- s-she need to just _go._

Staring at the striking color of gold one more time, she locked eyes with the Sandman- and then flew off, as quickly as she could, leaving a confused Sandman and Spirit of Old behind.

The two looked at each other.

What had happened?

.

.

.

.

.

A long time ago, when there where no other spirits other than that of the elements and the land, a being called The Darkness was hidden to the world, in the deepest, darkest cave underground. It never knew that there were other like it above, it never knew of color, or _life._

That was its world.

Darkness.

That was all it knew, and it was in the darkenss of the underground that the Spirit of Old remained until one day another found its cavern.

A being called The Sand had found its hidden place, while looking for shelter during a storm.

And it was then that The Darkness learned of another world, so unlike its own.

The Sand, like a gold beacon in the darkness, spoke of trees, wind, water, and life. It spoke of the animals, and the humans, of other Spirits, and the worlds in the great beyond among the stars.

The Darkness was fascinated, by The Sand, by the _gold,_ and by the stories of a world unlike his own.

There were other like it? The Sand and it were the same?

Like child, The Darkness absorbed all the information, eager to learn more.

And when the storm stop, and it was time for The Sand to go, The Darkness was amazed when The Sand asked it to come with it.

The Sand wanted The Darkness to come with it? The Sand…was not afraid of it?

Grasping part of The Sand lightly, The Darkness slowly came out of its hiding place, scared, yet excited beyond belief.

And when The Darkness first laid eyes on the world, it was amazed and awed at what it saw.

With laugher, The Sand rose into the air, begging The Darkness to join for a dance, as Spirits of Old often did with those they saw as 'friends'.

Shyly, The Darkness slowly followed after it.

As they danced across the sky, The Darkness slowly began to smile.

Perhaps there was more to its world then darkness after all...

And that, my dear friends, is what they say was just the beginning of series of unforeseen events.

And it all started with the introduction of golden sand...

* * *

A little more to the story, no? Keeper's on her way to try to find Insanity, the Sandman and The Sand are confused, and a little peek about the past of The Darkness. That beings said...I updated early! Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think or if you see any mistakes! XD


	13. Break the Spell

_Break the Spell_

Jack would be the first one to admit that he was genuinely beginning to like being a member of the Island of Sleepy Sands community.

He looked forward to the mermaids lessons about the spirit world, and enjoyed his sparing with the Sea Shell warriors- who were a lot tougher than they looked.

He enjoyed meeting with the Keeper, who spoke of the Golden Age, wonders beyond belief, and of times long forgotten.

He loved playing with the turtles and the dolphins near the Island of Sleepy Sands, he loved dancing with the Wind and the Sand, he loved-

He loved being loved.

That was it, he realized.

He felt like he was loved, as if he- he of all spirits- was actually wanted in the world.

Wanted by the Keeper, wanted by the mermaids, the sea shells, the Wind and the Sand, the dolphins and turtles- and Sandy.

Sandy- Sandy was always so kind, worrying about him, and always looking after him.

He felt as though Sandy was his older brother or father, and it truly made him happy to have- have a family.

That's what they all were- _a family._

The thought warmed his heart.

Not that he'd every tell Sandy that.

Lost in his musings, he never noticed the darkning sky, or the looming figures slowly making its way towards him.

.

.

.

.

.

Mortals where always changing.

Their tools, their clothes, their morals- everything about them was constantly shifting through the ages, and though there were patterns, most spirits generally agreed that they would never understand the world of men.

The same cannot be said for Spirits.

Spirits, more often than not, did not like change. They stayed the same, all throughout their endless lives, unwilling to explore a different path.

While they may find others they feel a kin, or occasionally become partners with another spirit, by and large, they did not continue theses relationships for long- though long is a relative term for those who are immortal.

There was no sense of 'family'.

That's not to say that Spirits didn't form groups, or that they had no friends- oh no, that was far from the truth. Everyone knew after all, that the Spirits like the Sins or the Guardians tended to stick together.

But even those groups, the like of which had been around for hundreds of years, where not particularly close, or at least not as close as human families may be.

So, it came as a great shock to all when the Sandman openly declared one Jack Frost as 'one of his own'.

To declare someone 'one of your own' was like declaring that someone was apart of you- it was declaring a closer bond than any bond of family. It meant that you truly loved the other, and could not bare the thought of harm be falling on them. Any attack directed towards the other would be seen as a personal insult, and actions _would be taken, _regardless of the reasons.

Spirits had not officially declared another as one of their own since the before the fall of the golden age- though rumors had it that their were in fact such bonds among the 'lower circles'.

Ridiculous.

Not even the Guardians, who were widely considered to be one of the closest group of spirits, actually bothered to declare such a thing.

So of course, not everyone believed it was true at first.

It was laughable even.

It was Jack Frost after all.

'Jack Frost', they said.

Hah!

He was the bringer of Winter!

Did not winter kill? Did not Winter destroy?

Did it not harm children and adults alike?

How could_ the Sandman_, of all Spirits, declare such a thing towards _Jack Frost_?

Even the other Guardians thought it was untrue, in the beginning.

But Sandy continued to show that he saw Jack as one of his.

He allowed Jack full access to his domain, and was continually seen flying through the night sky during his rounds with the young spirit.

He would snap at anyone who dared to insult or question his reasons regarding the young Spirit of Winter- including snapping at the endless questioning of the other Guardians, much to their shock.

In addition, he would proudly praised the boy to anyone who would listen- or read his depictions, as it was.

Sometimes, he was even was even seen dozing off on a cloud of sand with the boy.

But the most important proof was not any of his actions- but the gleaming chain of magic-infused golden sand that appeared around the boys neck one night after Christmas- with a matching chain of ice appearing around the Sandman's.

The Spirits were in an uproar.

Spirits did not often give pieces _of their very essence- _their _magic_- to another spirit.

Most of all they were confused.

To them, the magic chains and the bond were just a wast of time, a foolish thing to declare or give.

A wast of magic.

'Why would anyone want to make such a bond in the first place?' they thought. 'Doing so ment bonding magically, and that could have negative backlash if something goes wrong'.

And more importantly-

'Why Jack?'

The Spirit world had forgotten, of course, the importance of such a thing, and just how much the declaration or gift of magic truly ment.

Some of them grew jealous. Some thought it just plain weird.

And some- some thought that it was all a lie, and that Jack Frost had cast some sort of evil spell on the Sandman.

Enraged by the 'spell that was clearly cast on the Sandman', who was beloved by all, these spirits declared that they would 'break the spell and end the evilness of Jack Frost once in for all'.

* * *

So...yeah. I must have written at least half a dozen different 'chapters' for this week, but this one works out best, I believe. Sorry for the late post! I tried, I really did. XD

The mention of the 'lower circles' refers to spirits like Pitch, or negative things like sins or harmful emotions. More on that later.

Anyway, what did y'all think?

Edit: Fanfiction, wtf? I'm reposting this chapter, because it wouldn't post the first time. :(


	14. Just Not His Day

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but what's mine.

Note to the readers: If you couldn't read my last update because the site wouldn't let you, you should be able to now. Go back and read the last chapter please! Or you won't know what's going on.

_Just Not His Day_

Sandy was flying over the United States, on his way to the one of the Guardian's monthly meetings, when he felt it.

Fear and confusing shoot through him like a bullet, and it took him a moment to recognize that the emotions were not his own.

Immediately, he pulled out the chain that Jack had gave him last Christmas (something that Jack had jokingly named the Chain of Frost, much to Sandy's amusement), which had been hidden under his robes.

It was flashing brightly, and the emotional panic and confusion he felt from it was slowly rising.

_Jack?!_

He sent the words through the chain, using his magic to try to contact his young friend.

The chain in his hand flashed in response, and Jack's own magic responded seconds later.

_Sandy!_

_Jack! What's going-_

_Sandy! I don't understand, why are they doing this?! _

Jack was sobbing.

Around him, The Sand twisted and turned in the air, restless, outraged and confused.

_Understand? Understand what Jack?_

_T-they s-say I did s-something to you that was b-bad, and I-I don't un-understand but I didn't do it I swear! _

_Who Jack? Who's they? What are they-_

_They're hurting me! They're taking it away!_

_Jack?! Who's-!_

- and then the bond abruptly cut off, and the chain in Sandy's hand slowly darkened.

Sandy stared at the Chain of Frost in disbelief.

Desperately, he tried to re-contact Jack but he received no response.

He even tried reaching out through the dream sand, which allowed him to feel where everyone was (how else did North know if people were a sleep or awake?), but it too failed.

There wasn't even a spark of emotion in the bond.

The Chain of Frost was still in his hands, which meant that Jack was still out there _somewhere _but-

But where? And why?

Who would even attack the young Spirit of Winter?

Sandy felt like screaming in frustration and anger.

Jack- Jack was _hurt_, _someone_ had _hurt and kidnapped_ Jack and he didn't even know _who_ or _where_ or _why_…

The Sandman buried his head in to his hands and took a deep breath.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Slowly calming down, he tried to think rationally.

He knew that there were other spirits out there who didn't like Jack, but he didn't know who or why.

Was it Pitch?

The Sand immediately dismissed this idea, much to Sandy's surprise.

The Sand apparently knew for a fact that Pitch would never harm Jack, though why it felt that way or how The Sand knew this, was anyone's guess.

Well, he trusted his old friend dearly, so Pitch was out.

Who then?

_Let's go to the meeting._

Sandy blinked.

The meeting? Why would the Sand want him to go to-

Of course! North's globe snow's should be able to find Jack, right? All he had to do was explain everything to North, and then he could find Jack! And maybe the other Guardians could help!

Relived that he had finally had an idea on what to do, he set of speeding towards the North Pole.

Jack's was in danger- and he'd be damned before allowed any more harm to happen to Jack.

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Sandy got to the North Pole in record time, and he was rather relived when he saw that the Guardian's were already there.

Immediately, he made his way towards the Guardian's who were all chatting near the globe.

"Sandy! There you are!" North's booming voice sounded across the room, and the other Guardians turned to face Sandy.

"We were wondering when you were going to show up. But you are here now, so time to get started, yes? Now-"

Much to Sandy's annoyance, North immediately began talking about the latest news, and the activities of Pitch, and blah, blah, blah, who cares?

Jack was in trouble, and they were here talking about Pitch!

Pitch hadn't even done anything big for centuries, why the hell were they still talking about him at ever single meeting?

(Somewhere, in a deep cave, Pitch Black sneezed and idly wondered who kept talking about him every month.)

Sandy tried getting their attention, but that was harder than it looked.

Finally, he grabbed the nearest thing he could find, which happen to be a trashcan and had intended to throw it at them to get their attention (he was upset okay?) when he paused and stared at it.

And stared.

Evidently, the Guardian's must have noticed how things seemed even quieter than before (which was weird, because Sandy hadn't even been talking in the first place) and turned back to face their fellow guardian.

"Sandy?" Tooth's voice asked confused, fluttering over towards him. "Why did you pick up a gold trashcan?"

Beside her, North mumbled something about how he didn't even know he _had_ a golden trashcan, but Sandy was too busy starring to care.

It was the trashcan.

From hell.

_The _trashcan from _hell_ that he had complete destroyed and threw into the sea _months ago._

His left eye began to twitch, and the Guardians glance worriedly at each other.

"Sandy? You alright mate?" Bunnymund asked, his ears folded back as he looked at the his fellow Guardian in confusion and concern.

At the sound of his voice, Sandy promptly began slamming the demon into the ground, mentally cursing it in his mind as his did, before throwing out the a window- knocking down several piles of toys in the process.

The other Guardian's stared in disbelief as Sandy stood there, huffing and buffing in anger as he stared down at the ground.

Sandy sighed.

Breath in.

Breath out.

In the background, a yeti groaned in dismay as he came back from his break and found that the robot toys he was working on where all broken.

North threw his hands up in the air.

"Sandy! You broke my window! And some of the toys! Christmas is coming and-" what even North was cut off as Sandy looked up and glared.

North's words instantly died down, and he swallowed.

"N-never mind. It's fine, yes? A-all good fun, I didn't really like that window anyway and-" Any other time Sandy might have found North's stuttering amusing, but as it was, he simply held up one hand.

North grew quite once more.

Taking a deep breath, Sandy began to explain about the fear and the bond, and how Jack was kidnapped.

The Guardians, though still confused, seemed to understand why Sandy was so upset (though it didn't explain the part about throwing a trashcan out a window).

It was when Sandy got to the part about Pitch that they began ignoring him again.

"Ah-ha! That is it!" North shouted.

Wait.

What?

"It must be Pitch! Who else would attack a friend of the Sandman?!"

Sandy gaped, and in the back of his mind he could feel The Sand doing the same.

Where they even paying attention to what he was saying?

Bunnymund and Tooth's eyes widen, and they both immediately agreed.

Sandy face palmed as North shouted 'To the sleigh!' and the two Guardians began following North as they went to 'teach that evil Pitch a lesson' and Sandy was left, standing in the room filled with toys and yetis.

Sandy could feel his blood pressure rising.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

Breath out.

This was just not his day.

* * *

...So, what did you all think? Wasn't a 100% sure about this chapter, but I think it's alright. XD Yeah, so the Guardians (besides Sandy, obviously) tend to think that anything bad equals Pitch, and are bad at remembering that Sandy is there sometimes. Poor Sandy.

Actually, poor Pitch- he didn't even do anything (this time anyway).

On a side note, Happy Valentines! :)

Next chapter: Sandy goes to The Keeper for help, other Spirits are introduced, Pitch is confused as hell, and Jack wakes up in a cell.


	15. A Start of a Beginning

_A Start of A Beginning _

The Sandman sighed and ran a hand over his face.

What now?

He didn't know or trust that many other spirits who could help.

The Sand huffed.

Sandy frowned.

The Sand mentally rolled its eyes- The Keeper of Old of course! Who else?

Sandy's eyes widened in surprise- he hadn't even thought of that!

_No really? I never would have guess._

Sandy rolled his own eyes, still thinking on the subject.

He could go to ask The Keeper for help! She was rather fond of Jack, was she not?

Truthfully, he was still a little wary of The Keeper of Old, and he wasn't sure if she would want to risk the trouble to help.

_What is __that__ supposed to mean?! The Keeper will not leave Jack to face harm!_

Sandy nodded in agreement- he didn't _think _she would, but then he didn't really know that well.

Jack had spend more time with the ancient spirit than he had, and honestly things always seemed a little…awkward? Tense? Whenever he and The Keeper spoke alone.

But then, it had been a long time since they first met, and the meeting hadn't been pleasant.

Perhaps it was just feelings left over from that?

Still- it couldn't hurt to ask.

_Finally. Let's go! I'll take you to The Keeper's domain. _

And with that, a whirl of sand surround him, and The Sand began taking him towards The Keeper's home.

There was a lot to do.

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Tonight, Pitch mused as he sipped his glass of wine, was a rather find night.

The sky was clear and the moon was dark- no annoying lectures from the Big Guy tonight!

A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves across the clearing and in the distanced he could hear the song of a lone wolf, howling through the night. His Nightmares roamed across the clearing, looking rather pleased themselves. He hadn't been able to join the sand with them yet, but he grew stronger still regardless.

Hopefully, he would be able to soon and then he could kick-start the fear in the world- there was too little of it these days it be a comfort.

Usually, nights like these were the prefect night for him to run with the Nightmares and stir up some fear- but for tonight, he was content to relax, and drink the blood-red wine that the lovely tall fellow Jack had gifted him last November ("I'll make the 31st the day that humans love to feel fear and be scared, mark my words my King!").

He chuckled at the thought. A day of fear that humans enjoyed? Doubtful- but the young man had been determined, and he saw nothing wrong with giving the spirit encouragement.

He smiled.

A holiday of fear!

That would be the day.

Besides! He rather like be called 'my King'- there weren't many spirits that respected his title of King of Fear.

He took a deep breath and grinned.

A rather fine night indeed.

Or at least it was, until a sleigh of all things came crashing into him.

He skidded across the clearing and slammed right into a tree.

With a groan, he sat up and clutched his head, which was bleeding, his vision blurring.

Around him, he could feel the panic and worry from Nightmares as they all moved towards him, as if to protect him and The Shadows hissed in response to the pain he felt.

What on Earth was going on?

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Meanwhile, hidden somewhere in the deep, dark underground, a young spirit woke up with a gasp as a deep chuckle echoed through the chamber.

* * *

Bonus Short! Because I love you guys.

Summary: The Guardians, for the first time since Sandy's announcement regarding Jack as one of his own, for the first time realize that he truly means it.

To be honest, the Guardians hadn't really noticed it at first.

It had just seemed so…normal at first.

It wasn't until Sandy actually smile- smile!- at one of the elves trying to steal his drink during one of their meetings that they actually noticed that he had, in fact, been acting differently in comparison to how he usually behaved.

For one thing, Sandy, who was usually the first to arrive for their monthly meetings, was now the last one to arrive for all of their meetings.

Instead of being there several minutes ahead, he would show up right before the meetings was to start (though he was never late- he was the Sandman after all. He was good at keeping up with time), and he had switch from being the last to leave to the first.

In addition, he actually stayed awake for the during the meetings, rather than nodding in and out of sleep like he usually did.

In fact, he was more talkative (or Sand signing, as it were) than before, adding more and more to meetings than he had in years. And then, as soon as it was over, he would smile and shoot out an open window via one extremely fast sand-airplane.

And finally, he seemed- happier.

He smiled more, and took the time to ask about each of their days- paying attention to the small details.

No, it wasn't as if he didn't smile a lot before, but these smiles where different. He would stare of into the distance, like he usually did during meetings and then suddenly he would smile widely (in contrasted to his usually small ones).

The smiles were different.

Softer.

Happier even.

They didn't know how simply just declaring Jack as one of his own changed him so, but, in the end, they admitted that maybe Sandy hadn't been in the wrong to do such a thing.

If doing so made him so happy, what was the harm?

* * *

And...there you go! What did y'all think? How did you like the bonus?

Next Chapter: Sandy arrives at The Keeper's and learns a little more about her life than he knew and Pitch, while fleeing (running with style!) decides that trying to talk to the Guardians about anything is just a wast of time. And then some more things happens.

p.s. I don't know if you guys noticed, but this is the second time I've mentioned The Shadows. Care to guess about it? Also- did anyone catch the cameo?


	16. Surprising Relations

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Rise of the Guardians/ The Guardians of Childhood. Sad, I know.

Warning: There's a bit of cussing.

Surprising Relations

"This is just plain ridiculous! Why do I even brother!? "

Pitch Black was riding on the back of one of his Nightmares, racing across the forest in attempt to get away from the Guardians.

He had tried to explain of course, that no, he _didn't _have Jack Frost, and no, he didn't _know _where the boy was, but did they listen?

Nooooooo. Something evil had happened, so _of course_ he had something to do with it.

Jerks.

"Semira, faster please!"

Semira, one of his oldest Nightmares, tossed her head in agreement. Her shadow hooves ran across the forest floor as fast as she could, trying with all her might to get her master to safety and away from those crazy Guardians.

Pitch was _really_ getting tired of the Guardian's stupidity.

Okay, sure, he went a _little _too far with the whole downfall of the Golden Age thing.

And yeah, it was pretty bad during the Dark Ages.

And the WWI.

And WWII, and the Cold War, and the incident with Hades and….

Well, a lot of other things, but come on!

_He didn't do anything this time damn it!_

Behind him, he could hear his other Nightmares scream in anger as they tried to stall the Guardians- all of whom where none too happy about that.

"_Pitch! _Get back here and fight us yourself, _you coward_!"

Bunnymund was certainly vocal with _his _feelings on the matter.

He idly wonder if the Guardian ever thought about the fact that if he did that fight them himself it would be three or four against one.

Probably not.

Although, to be honest, normally fighting back against these three out of the four Guardian's really wasn't that hard (come on, _everyone_ knew that it was _Sandy_ you had to look out for), but there was barely any fear to pull strength from these days (or at least ones that he caused anyway).

And, quite rankly, while he was sure he could hold his own for a while, his head was still pounding with pain and he'd rather just avoided anymore injures all together.

"Semira, head for the Ark! We can't keep this up much longer!"

Semira let out a neighed in response, and he could feel her disbelief with the plan but she followed the order nonetheless.

There would be anger about his use of the Ark, but it would be fine, he was sure of it.

Right…?

The Shadows, his constant companion, snorted in response.

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The Sandman had finally arrived at _The Black Hills' Castle_, also know as the Keeper's domain.

The Sand flew him straight past the front doors, which, much to his surprise, had opened on their own to allow them in.

He idly wondered how they did so, even as he looked around the long dark halls of the castle.

The Sand flew by everything, weaving through the maze like place as though it owned it.

Evidently, The Sand could feel were its fellow Spirit of Old (The Darkness) was and was using the other's magic to track where The Keeper was located.

For a little while, he was sure they would never find her.

Then The Sand skidded to a halt.

Sandy looked around, trying to find The Keeper, only to see nothing.

Perplexed, he formed a question mark.

And then….

"Quit _fucking _firing arrows at me already damn it!"

The Sand shot off towards direction of the yell.

What in the world?

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The Keeper's voice echoed across the walls, bouncing across to the grand halls of the Keeper's Castle.

The Keeper huffed as she stared a the winged man before her, ignoring the hysterical giggling coming from her right. Insanity always did that when the she and Leo augured.

Speaking of which….

"One arrow! Just one little arrow and I'll leave you alone! Honestly, you are the most stubborn being I've every met!"

Leo's southern accent got thicker with each word, though she doubted the man noticed in his anger.

"One arrow my staff! I don't _want_ your blinding romantic _fluff _thank you, I'm quite content with my single status as it is!"

Leonard "Leo" Heart, aka Cupid, threw his hands up in the air, his wings white wings flaring in irritation as he clenched his bow tightly in one his hands.

"That was fine when you weren't on the list, but _your on the now list damn it!_ List plus feelings equals Cupid arrow!"

The Keeper quickly dodged another incoming arrow, much to Leo's frustration.

"For the love of- will you _please _just_ sit still!_ And my arrows don't make you blind in love, they just give you a push towards accepting it!"

"I'm telling you, your mad! I-"

The Keeper was cut of a burst of sand filled the room, coming from a now opened window.

Both of them paused to stare.

The Sand gave way and the Sandman appeared before them, in the middle of it the room looking extremely worried.

Seeing that The Keeper was in no danger, Sandy tilled his head in confusion at the pair.

Silence…

And then-

"HA! I knew it! See, it's a sign! What better blessing then that of The Sand and the Sandman?"

The Keeper whirled around to face Leo, her face burning with anger and embarrassment.

"It is most certainly _not _a sign!"

The Keeper was practically screeched out the words as she glared at the Spirit of Love.

The Keeper probably would have yelled some more, where in not for the large burst of magic that washed over them all.

In the middle of the room, large ring of black magic was formed- and with a another burst of magic, Pitch Black, the King of Nightmares came charging in on one of his Nightmares. Through the Ark one could see several figures making their way though from behind him.

"Mother!"

Pitch was staring right The Keeper.

The Guardians came barreling through the Ark just as he yelled at the word.

"What?!"

"Did he just say mother?!"

"Sandy! You're here too!"

Excited about all the commotion, Insanity piped a helpful "I'm here too!".

The Keeper screamed in frustration.

Sandy, for his part, were very, very confused.

The Darkness just wanted _everyone_ to go the _hell away_.

* * *

Yeah….surprise?

...

...

…_I regret nothing!_

What do you think? Honestly, I was swing in and out as far as writing this went, so I'm not really sure if I liked how it turned out. I like the top part well enough, anyway. Sorry for the lateness of this chapter...I don't know if this thing makes sense in more. XD

And yeah, I gave Cupid a southern american accent. 'Cause I can. :P

By the way, Semira means Nighttime Companion.


	17. The Beast of Summer

_The Beast of Summer_

When Jack wakes up, it's to the sound of a deep, raspy chuckle somewhere in the seemingly bottomless underground.

He immediately scrambles to his feet, trying desperately to keep himself clam as he searches frantically for the source of the noise that woke him up.

His staff was nowhere in sight.

Now that he was a wake, he could feel the every inch of the cuts and bruises that were scattered across his skin, and he hiss at the pain.

His memories struggled to put the pieces together- a shadow, a laugh, angry declarations-

"_What have you done to the Sandman?"_

That's right.

Someone- no, several someones, several_ spirits_, had attacked him and demand that he 'release his hold on the Sandman.'

What did that even mean?

They had taken his staff, cutting him off from his magic and The Wind. He had been helpless against their assault as they demanded answers and demanded he break what ever spell he had put on the Sandman...

_A beautiful women with long blonde hair had grinned down at him, smirking at his pain. _

_In her one arm, an orb laid and in the other, she held his staff. THe could feel The Wind howl with rage from inside the orb._

"_Why not take him to The Beast of Summer? His magic is cut off, clearly," she holds both up the orb and the staff smirking. _

_They didn't know The Wind was a spirit, Jack realized with a start. _

_"So he can do no harm. Surely The Beast, of beings, would know how to settle this." _

_Her voice sounded like bells, gentle and kind, but Jack had felt no comfort in her words or her presence as she stood before him, his precious staff and his beloved friend in her arms._

_The others murmured and augured with each other. _

_What if the spell didn't end after Jack's death? _

_What if it was something darker or viler than they thought? _

_So and so forth. _

_All the while, Jack could do nothing but watched from his spot on the ground (where the blond had slammed him down rather hard) as they decided his fate. _

_A tall, older looking man with ginger colored hair walked through the crowd of spirits, his head held high as his eyes swept across the crowd before they landed on Jack. _

_The women with blond hair had smiled at him, but he ignored her, looking past her at the a rather plain-looking women, at least in comparison to the blond, the women's hair gleaming a reddish-brown color._

_The women smiled at him, her eyes glowing with happiness- and for a second, the man's eyes did the same, before he turned towards Jack._

_The blonds' own smiled dropped and she glared at the other women with unrestrained hatred in her eyes. _

_The mummer in the among the crowd grew louder and angrier as they argued with each other, but the man paid this no mind. _

_With just a single gesture from the man, the entire crowd had fell silent. _

_He slowly made his way to Jack, his black boots walking soundless on the ground._

_Jack flinched, expecting a blow, but the man simply crouched down, lifting Jack's head up and placed it on his own lap._

_The man stared at him, and Jack stared right back at the golden eyes in front of him._

_He didn't feel afraid then._

_He felt…warm._

_The man looked up, and even Jack could feel the heat of the man's glare as he looked over all the other spirits._

"_This," the man hissed, eyes blazing. "Is not what I meant when I said bring him in for __questioning.__"_

_The others winced, and some had looked rather ashamed. _

"_Perhaps," the man began again. "Given what he has said, he is telling the truth."_

_The others protested and yelled, the blond loudest of all, but the man simply glared and they all once again fell silent. _

"_I said perhaps. But Spring brings up a valid point. We shall take him to The Beast- if he is truly innocence, than we had done him a great dishonor- and if he not," here the man shrugged. "__He __will take care of it."_

There had been a mummer of excitement, a few cheers, and the man had looked down at him, gold eyes flaring and then-

Nothing.

He could remember nothing after that.

He tried as hard as he could, but his mind drew a blank and he sighed in frustration.

A warm buff of air brush over him.

Spinning around, he let out a yelp of shock, nearly falling in the process, at the sight of some very large teeth, which gleamed in the dark.

Another round of laughter greet him as he scrambled to get away from what must have been 'The Beast'….

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"Throne?"

"Hm?"

Throne Summer, the Spirit of - well, Summer, turned at the sound of his name, huffing as his ginger hair once again got in his face. Perhaps it was time to get it cut…

On his desk, a white orb laid, the winds inside string slightly, restless, but no longer doing so with blind rage.

The voice laughed, and soft hands pushed back the strand of hair and tucked it behind his ear.

"Silly Throne, you hair has grown far to long!" The voice teased.

Rolling his eyes, Throne looked at the women before him and smiled. Her own light reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and her hazel eyes gleamed with amusement.

"I know that well enough Autumn. What is that you need?"

'Autumn' frowned, looking at little uneasy. "Was it…," she paused, biting her lip. "Was it right to send Jack Frost to The Beast? He did not seem at fault, and we could have at least question him are selves before sending him to the pit…"

Throne sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you think the others would be okay with that? Honestly, even if he _is _innocent they'd be calling for blood, the jealous fools. With the way Spring shouts about him, you'd think the boy was worse than Pitch Black himself."

He signed, before looking up, amused.

"And 'The Beast' has a name you know…"

Autumn's unwillingness to say the Beast's name clearly amused him, and she scowled at him for it.

Rolling his eyes, he gently pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms her with a chuckle.

She huffed, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"It will all work out. Let's just hope the fools will be satisfied with the judgment and leave it at that hmm? And who knows? Perhaps he will be the key to his freedom…"

In the background, a women with blond hair, referred by others as simply _Spring, _looked up at the others words and grinned.

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He was going to die.

Jack pressed himself up against the wall, desperate to get away from The Beast.

He was going to die, in who knows where, because some idiots thought he had tricked Sandy!

He felt like crying.

He still couldn't see anything, and he tried to suppress the fear that travel through him as he tried with all his might to _see _at least _something _(other than the very white, very large _teeth)._

A brush of flame nearly blinds him with its light, and for a second, he thinks that he will be burned alive.

But the heat goes away and the light dies down, and when he opens his eyes he was stunned to see one very large, very dangerous looking, _dragon._

It's crimson scales gleamed like fire in the shadows.

The flames must have come from the dragon, he realizes. High above them, he noticed that the new source of light came from an orb that floated- actually _floated! - _in the air, which now had large flicking flames stirring inside.

"It's a fire orb." A deep voice informed him. "From the Golden Age. They are used to light up rooms, and it only takes a bit of fire to keep them going for days."

It took him a second to realize it, but the voice was _coming from the dragon. _

"A-are you t-talking to m-me?" Jack cursed himself for stuttering, but given that there was a twenty-something foot dragon in front him, he felt he could be excused on the matter.

The dragon snored, looking unimpressed.

"Do you see anyone else little blessed one? This cave may be large," the dragon wave a claw at the obviously massive cave, which stretched on for miles. "But it's not exactly teeming with life."

Jack eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Why do you call me 'little blessed one'?"

The dragon grinned, show a ray of sharp teeth. "Ah, so you paying attention! Good, good! I'd hate to be in the company of a dim-witted."

Jack didn't know whither to be insult or not.

"As for the reason, it because you are blessed, clearly. Though I imagine you do not feel so blessed now, hum?"

"Alright fine, I'm blessed, but _what _does that even _mean_?"

Here, it was the dragon's turn to frown. "Perhaps not so bright then. Ah, well, 'tis a pity then."

Jack scowled, and was about to open his mouth to retort, fear forgotten at the moment, when the dragon continued on.

"What I mean little one, is that you are bonded to The Wind and a friend to The Sand. Their magic covers you, and anyone from the old days would be foolish to dare attack you. Do you even know why you're here, little one?"

Jack shook his head and the dragon's mood seem to deepen at the information.

"You are here," the dragon began, looking displeased. "Because some foolish lesser spirits decided that you had done something to the Sandman-,"

Jack swelled with anger, infuriated. "I would never hurt Sandy!"

He felt enraged by the very thought- and then he remembered who- or what, as it was- he was talking to and shrunk back down, trying to appear as small as possible.

The dragon, while seeming a bit displeased at the interruption, looked satisfied and amused at the same time with Jack's declaration.

"You would be wise not to do so. As I was saying, they decided in their all-powerful wisdom they simply _must _help out their fellow spirit and 'bring you to justice'." The dragon rolled its eyes at the thought.

"Or, in other words, let you get mauled by one very big dragon and then get eaten."

The dragon looked amused at the thought, though Jack could feel himself grow pale- well, paler, anyway.

"As if I would be idiotic enough to do so." The dragon scoffed. "Ingrates. Throne at least, has some sense- who knows what the fools would do other wise."

The dragon seemed very offended by the very thought of it, which left Jack feeling extremely relived- yet by the end of the dragon's speech, Jack's head was left spinning with only more questions.

He had a feeling that this was going to take away while.

"Who's Throne?"

The dragon sputtered, looking shocked.

"One would think you would at least know him, of all spirits little one! Throne is the Spirit of Summer, your opposite in every way. You have met him before. It is he who brought you here."

That must have been the man with ginger hair then. But why had the man brought him here?

"Throne said he would take me to The Beast of Summer, but why? And why are you called that anyway?"

The dragon smirked looking amused.

"What is The Wind to you little one? I am to him, what it is to you. He trust me far above others- and I him. You would do well to remember that." Here, the dragons stares, until Jack is nodding his head, eager not to enrage The Beast. The Dragon nods, looking satisfied.

"As for why I am called that name- well that name is but one of which I carry, though it is the one I am most known by. The spirit fools you met earlier gave me that name."

Jack's pretty sure that the 'fools' on one of the lowest spot on The Dragons's 'I hate your guts' list.

"I am also known as The Dragon of Summer, The Summer Lord, a quite a few other titles."

The dragon was leaning back against its back legs, standing upright as it stared down at him.

Jack felt incredibly small.

"But to you? To you, I would be known as a different name."

Jack titled his head, confused.

"I am also known as The Fire."

Jack's eyes widen.

Did that mean-?

"Yes little one. I am The Fire, a Spirit of Old. Just like your friends The Wind and The Sand, hmm?"

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_Jack looks at The Keeper, curious._

"_Are there other Spirits of Old like you?"_

_The Keeper looked back at him, and Jack couldn't help but feel incredibly young as her gaze fell on him, her eyes filed with tiredness and a sense of endless knowledge. _

"_Of course. But know this Jack- not all of them are like me, and you should take care of how you speak. You never know of whom or what it is you may be speaking to- or what they may have done."_

* * *

So, know you know what's going on with Jack. Though I probable just gave you more questions than answers. XD

And lo and behold! More spirits- and yeah, the Spirit of Summer's name actually is Throne Summers. Why?...because I can?

And Autumn and Summer? Their a thing, but Spring doesn't like that.

Just so you know, Jack's only been gone for a little more than a day or two. Time flies, no?

Next Chapter switches back to the 'rescue party' who pretty much fail at rescuing.

'Till next week!


	18. Mother Keeper

_Mother Keeper_

"Mother!"

Pitch scrambled of Semira, who looked all too amused for a horse as she watched her master run straight in to the arms of his mother, in a tangle mess of limbs as he all but curled around The Keeper. His shadows followed suit.

The Keeper caught him with the easy of years of practice, not even looking the least bit surprised at his actions.

She rolled eyes, an amused smile on her face, as she petted his hair and he mumbled random things in to her shoulder.

Honestly, thousands of years old with his own daughter and he _still _acts like a child.

The Darkness snorted.

She frowned as she felt the dried-blood on his head, but The Shadows whispered that it had taken care of the injury, so she resolved to look at it later after their "guest" had left.

She still didn't even know why they, or Sandy, were here after all.

Looking over at the Pitch's eldest Nightmare, she gestured for Semira to join the group hug.

"Come child- you might as well join in the fun."

Semira, looking surprised but extremely pleased, neighed happily and trotted over towards The Keeper, the Nightmare cheerfully placing head over The Keeper's unoccupied shoulder and nuzzling the Spirit of Old's face.

The Keeper chuckled as she patted Semira's head with one of her hands, the other still combing through Pitch's hair.

"What are you doing here my little dark one? The reunion dinner doesn't start for another hour. Most of the family hasn't even arrived yet."

Pitch mumbled something against her shoulder and she strained to hear his words.

"They accused me of doing something 'evil'. Again."

Pitch paused for a moment.

"And is that today? I don't remember…"

No surprise there- Pitch was horrible with remembering family get togethers.

"Yes, Insanity and Leo are already here. Did you not see them when you came barreling in? The others will be here shortly. Honestly Pitch, bring _them_ here today of all days?…"

She glanced up and sneered at the sputtering Guardians.

How dare they harass her son without reason? And on their reunion day too…The others weren't going to be happy.

_Of course they're not going to be happy. 'Good' spirits don't like 'bad' spirits like us…_

The Keeper hummed in agreement with The Darkness.

The others weren't really their family of course, but she and Pitch considered them to be family anyway.

Insanity was certainly happy enough to call her son "big brother Pitch".

She continued glaring at the Guardians even as thoughts flew through her head.

Sandy, of course, was not being glared at by The Keeper- he was floating next to Leo and Insanity, the latter of which floating as well, as he giggled and played with the Spirit of Dreams hair ("It's so pretty Leo, looky!" "Yes Insanity, it _is _pretty.") much to her amusement.

In front of them, the Guardians sputtered in shock, not even hearing the mother and son's exchange.

The Poka looking particularly stunned at the realization that _yes_, Pitch Black _did _in fact have a _mother_, and _yes_, she did seemed to care for him.

_Honestly_.

She idly wonder what they say when the realized that Leo was Cupid, one of the "good" spirits, and that he lived here most the time along with her and several of the "bad" spirits.

Probably no better than how they were acting now, what with yelling and the screaming and everything.

Speaking of the Guardians, this version of Aster in front of her was younger than the one she'd met before, she mussed, as she watched him stutter and jester wildly.

He didn't even have his staff.

Or his glasses.

Leo looked less then pleased at their "guests" rather rude behavior.

"Show some respect! You can't just come running into another's house and start a howling insults towards the person's son!"

That seemed to give the Russian and the half-Sister of Flight some pause, but Aster had no such restraint.

"Why in the world would should we respect _her _of all people? She's not exactly know for her good deeds and she's the _mother of Pitch. _That spirit's just as evil as him!"

This of course, did the Poka no favors in the eyes of Leo, nor Insanity who was looking rather upset himself- neither of them took well to insults towards her, bless their sweet souls.

Beside them, Sandy seemed to almost bristle a long with The Sand, and she felt touched that he would be angered on her behalf aswell.

The Keeper scoffed at the Poka's words, none too impressed with the other three "Guardians".

"First off, seeing as you imbeciles are in my domain, do try to at least act civilized."

They opened their mouths to retort, but The Keeper continued on uncaring of what they might have to say at this point.

"Secondly, my name is _The Keeper_," she hissed out her name, annoyed- Why can't anyone ever remember her name?!-"Not 'that spirit'."

She sighed, and Pitch lifted his head for the first time since he tackled her, tilting his head at his exhausted looking mother in concern.

She smiled, amused, and patted his head.

"And third, as you can clearly see, Sanderson his here as well. Why would he be here with us if we were "evil"?"

She sneered a the last part, sarcasm dripping every letter of the word.

Pitch was now standing next to her instead hugging her into oblivion, though he was still standing rather close as he eyed the guardians with annoyance and muttered insults at his 'enemies'.

Personally, The Keeper didn't understand how he could act like such a man-child one moment and the switch to he usual 'I'm holier than thou' stance in three-seconds flat.

Then again, she had been the one who raised him, so what did that say about _her_?

Meanwhile, the Guardians stared wide-eyed at their fellow Spirit Sandy, as though it was their first time noticing that he was there- her words having finally clicked.

Actually, she was pretty sure it _was _the first time they noticed.

How sad.

Sandy, for his part, looked briefly at them, clearly annoyed, before he looked back at Insanity and gently tried to get the younger child-like spirit to stop messing with his hair.

The Poka threw his hands into the air.

"Insanity's here too? Is this place just full of immoral evil spirits?!"

Wait.

What-?!

How dare he insult the little one!? Insanity was but a child!

Immediately, the roomed began to darkened, The Shadows and The Darkness flaring out in anger at the insult towards the Spirit of Insanity.

The Sand too stirred, restless and enraged as well, but stayed the same as it was- though it did circle around the child-like spirit as if to protect it.

For his part, Insanity had winced at the Easter Bunny's words, looking rather hurt and uneasy before he ducked further behind the Sandman.

His hands no longer messed with the Sandman's hair but instead clenched the back of the spirit's robe.

Pitch was up in the rabbits face in five seconds flat.

"How dare you insult one of my family's friends in my mother's own home?! Who do you think you are!?"

"I'm not the one who houses creeps like Insanity and has kids like you now am I?!"

Leo had made his way over to the Poka, his wings flaring in anger as he glared at the Easter Bunny, enraged.

"Now see here! How dare you-!?"

"Get your creepy face out of my face you weirdo!"

"Excuse me!? My creepy face?! Have you seen _yours_?"

"I'm warning you-!"

"Get your boomerang out of my son's face-!"

"Bunnymund, maybe we should-"

"Cupid, why don't you put your bow down-"

"Don't me Cupid fat-man! I-!"

"Fat?! I'M NOT FAT-!"

"ENOUGH!"

Several eyes snapped towards the noise, astonished.

It wouldn't have been so unusual, had it not for the fact that it had been the _Sandman_ who had yelling at them.

"We don't have time for this! Jack is out there missing, possible hurt, and all you guys can do if fight?! WE NEED TO FIND OUT WHERE HE IS NOW!"

Semira glanced at the humanoid spirits uneasily.

Pitch, The Spirits of Old, and the Guardian's gapped in shock.

Personally, The Keeper couldn't help but think that Sanderson had a rather lovely voice.

Behind the Sandman, Insanity let out a squeal of joy, completely obvious to the tension.

"Elizabeth's and the rest of the Sins are finally here!"

Leo grew extremely pale.

"Oh _god, _why_ now?_"

The Keeper snicker.

Leo never did get along with his in-laws.

That's what he gets for marrying the embodiment of Lust without telling her big brothers _The Sins_.

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Bonus!Short: _Family Interactions_

Just some silly interactions between Pitch and his mother. Enjoy!

The Keeper walked into her room and promptly collapsed on her bed with a sigh.

Today had been a rather tiring day, to say the least, and she was glad to be home at last.

How Insanity had manged to get himself stuck _there_ of all places, she'd never know.

Smiling into the soft sheets, The Keeper was just about to nod of when she heard a voice…

"It's rude to ignore your guest you know. I thought you'd at least say 'hi' to your own son."

With a yelp, The Keeper sprang back up and almost fell off the bed in her shock.

The voice was coming from below...

She immediately leaned over the side of the bed and glared into the darkness.

Curled up in the shadows under the bed, much like a cat, was the King of Fear himself.

Any other person might have been scared out of their wits.

The Keeper however, was not any other person.

"What the hell? What are you doing under my bed?!"

Golden eyes stared back at her, looking rather bored.

"What? It's comfortable, and I need sleep too."

"I gave you your own room child! You complain for hours about not having a room like the others here in castle, so go use it!"

"Mmmmm….no. I like it here."

The brat was grinning.

"Ugh!"

She flopped back on to the bed, and a few awkward minutes spent in silence past.

And then-

"Can I have a pillow? Preferably a dark one?"

The Keeper sighed, and stared a the ceiling.

"Yeah, okay."

She reached over to grasp the black pillow laying near her and held it over the edge of the bed.

A pale, gray arm reached out and stanched it from her hands.

With a please hum, the King of Fear curled around the pillow and laid his head on it- then promptly fell a sleep like a rock.

She huffed, amused.

The only reason he got away with things like this is because she was too soft...

"Mother?"

The Keeper sighed.

"Yes little dark one?"

"...Thanks."

The Keeper smiled. "Of course son. Your most welcome. Now go to sleep."

"Mkay. G'night."

"Good night my little one dark one..."

* * *

Hope you liked the bonus. That being said...

He spoke! By the stars above, the Sandman actually open his mouth and said something! It's the end of the world man!

Nah, but Sandy actually can speak- he just decides not to most the time, so he doesn't wake up the children, what with him being the Guardian of Dreams and all.

And yeah, Ocs are just slowly gaining members.

There's a reason I swear! I hope you like them at least.

The Keeper allows other spirits to basically live in her domain, more or less because she's a big softy and she felt really bad after what happen with Insanity. So he stayed, and then one of his friends showed up, and she blinks and boom! There's like ten more of them. They're all one big happy family! Sort of...

Pitch's family is full 'evil' spirits. Aster's not going to be happy. XD

Next chapter goes back to Jack and The Fire, along with a little Spirit of Old history lesson.

Thanks for all the reviews and the corrections! Let know if you guys see anymore mistakes.

'Till next week!


	19. The Tale of Cupid and Lust

Warning: Angst! Mentions of suicide!

Also- not apart of the main story line!

* * *

_The Tale of Leonard "Leo" Heart and Elizabeth Blackwell_

_A.k.a Cupid and Lust_

It started out, Leo supposed, as any other run.

There was someone on the list, and as Cupid, it was his job to shoot the hell out whatever fool was in love to make sure that said fool actually didn't screw up _too _badly.

In other words, he gave them a little "push" via arrow in the back.

He was told it helped.

A lot.

He won't know, even though he did accidentally shot himself once.

All he remembered from that was the over welling feeling of love, love, _love, _followed by the occasional bouts of 'what the hell am I doing with my life' and 'mother, why are you being mean to my love?'.

The Keeper, who honestly did seemed to know everything sometimes, told him that it was because one, he shot himself with his strongest arrow, the golden arrow ("What were you thinking you idiot?!") and two, because he was the Spirit of Love- so naturally, he felt the feeling of love more intensely than others.

But that- well, that went horribly bad, and he didn't want to talk about it anymore, okay?

He didn't want to talk about _Psyche_, and her beauty that captured the heart and soul of the Spirit of Love.

He didn't want to talk about their beautiful child, and Psyche's wonderful personally, or how her laugh always brighten his soul, and light up the room.

He didn't want to talk about the fallout between them, or how angry she had been as she screamed herself hoarse, breaking his heart slowly into a million pieces.

He didn't want to talk about the ugly black line that had appeared on his list, or of how he found her, in a pool of blood.

He didn't want to talk about how he screamed to the Zeus and the heavens themselves, perhaps so loud that even Odin on his throne in another domain could hear his grief, as he hugged his beautiful wife, ignoring the blood which forever seemed to stain his hands.

He didn't want talk about how he hadn't been enough, that he wasn't enough, or of the pain, and the guilt, and the blame-

_("Please, please, please come back!")_

The point was, he helped people with their love problems, and was very successfully too sometimes. He tried though to succeed all the time, but his arrows only went so far- at the very least, he could say he always shot true.

Well…except for the Keeper, who to this day would still not allow herself to get shot, or Greed, who still scared the crap out of Cupid to the point where he wouldn't even dare to attempt to shot the Sin. And that time he shot himself. Or about a half a dozen other cases, but that was beside the point- he was one guy, okay? There's only so much he could do!

He did in fact have more to do than that though, not that anyone really ever remembers that he does anything else.

He has different arrows.

Love comes in all forms after all, and as the spirit of love, he handled allow of it.

Friendship, puppy love, pure/true love, soul-mates (which, contraire to popular belief, was not always true love), family bonds- hell, he even dealt with "bromance".

He had helpers of course, little glowing orbs with little wings like his, of all shapes in sizes that had their own way of spreading the magic, but for the big ones, the ones that appeared on The List, he dealt with personally with his hand-made arrows.

Those were the aspects of his job that he liked.

Sometimes though- sometimes, love just doesn't go as planed. Sometimes, things happened- horrible, horrible things, that often resulted in him having to work along the Sins- list or no list, humans were strange beings with emotions.

He could not predict or deal with it all.

When this happened, he shot people with a different arrow- it was not an arrow filled with love, or happiness, or friendship, or any of those things.

This arrow was only shot when the names on The List went dead, becoming sicken with darkness instead of being bright and filled with joy.

(_Like with Psyche, his mind whispered.)_

The arrow he shot, one that was need just as much as it was hated, was a black one- the arrow of heartache.

Adults and child alike could see him them, and sometimes, if the emotion Spirits of Sorrow or Pain or Grief were late, he would simply just hold or stand next to the humans who he shot with his black arrow.

The _grief_- the overwhelming pain, flowed of them in waves, seeping down into his white feathers, but he shrugged it off and endured the wave of emotions that spoke so clearly towards him.

With each passing moment he could feel the magic of his arrows slowly dulling the pain and it helped him to know that he was helping others.

(_But you didn't help your own wife, did you? It was all your fault. You're a monster.)_

So long as it helped, he would continue to shot his arrows, and he would continue to silently be there for the broken hearted- for that was his job, that was his _life_, and that it was how he thought it would always be.

He had few friends, tons of people he knew that he would rather not know, and lovers a plenty, but love? Psyche- sweet, beautifully Psyche, had been that once but…not longer.

He was alone.

He hated it- he hated so much, that he felt like he could die at times, but then no one would be here to help them, to cure the black lines, or to heed the call of the colorful names of endless love, and he didn't want what happen to Psyche to happen to others, he didn't want them to feel the pain, because it was _awful_ and-

You get the point.

So, when his list flared an ugly black color, darker than all the rest, he flew as fast as he possibly could towards the source.

Already he could feel the ache_, _the grief screaming into the air like The Wind on a stormy night, the bounding of his heart going faster and faster- _Why, why, why? _

And all he could think was oh by the great Zeus, no, please,_ please_ don't die on me, _do you hear me?_

Because he knew they signs, he knew what the rush of blood, and the booming of his heart meant- he could feel his senses blur together as he flew faster and faster-because he knew, _he knew _someone was going die, due to their _grief, _their _heartache, _and _why, why, why_ would you do this, _Psyche, I am so sorry, please just answer me darling!_

Tsar Lunar, bless him, light up his path with the moon light, guide him towards the human in need.

But when he finally, got to the location of the pain, he saw nothing but a graveyard.

Tombstones scattered across the field, some new, some not, and the front the could see the newest graves line up in neat row, some freshly packed with dirt.

There was no one in sight.

Confused, he focused on the pain, willing it to guide him to the source.

Blinking, he moved towards it the feeling, stopping right in front of it.

Where was it coming from…?

The moon beam that had being helping him shifted and focused on a freshly packed grave.

To the side, a shovel laid carelessly tossed, still covered in dirt.

His eyes widen.

No- no, no, _no! _

Surely not!

The moon beam glowed, and he scrambled towards the shovel and slammed it down into the dirt of the grave, a horrible feeling rising from the back of throat and chilling his spine.

Already, he could feel the pounding of his heart start to slowly, just as the human's sure was, and he dug faster, desperate to help whoever _had been buried _alive, and oh by the _Stars, _who could have _done _this?

Finally- finally, he reached something hard, the shovel clanking into the side of metal encased casket, that had a seemly endless amount of chains and a huge, imposing looking lock on it.

Furiously, he pulled at the lock and the chains, his magic flaring to responded to his call as he snapped them easily.

(He felt gratefully that he was the Sprit he was, for a lesser Spirit would not have been able to break that with magic, and while he had strength, he was no North, and could not snap things easily as though they were but twigs as the Russian could).

He through open the lid of the tomb, throwing the vile thing far a way from were he sat next to the casket.

He gasped, stunned by the sight he found- the women laying inside the casket was _gorgeous, _perhaps even more so than his lovely Psyche, who had been so beautiful that she caused mortal men to forget his own mother, the goddess Venus, with her presence.

She was beautiful, she was gorgeous, she was stunning…and she was not breathing.

Aghast, he let out a flare of magic to check again.

His white wings, which had stretched out as far as they could when he first saw her in his joy of, dropped, now covered with mud and heavy with despair.

He…was too late. The women before him had died, moments before he yanked off the chains that bound her to her fate.

Falling to his knees, he wept, feeling a devastating wave of sorrow fill him as he pulled the women into his arms and held her close, his mind flashing back to Psyche…

_Why?_

His magic flared, and the moon glowed.

_Why?_

A single tear fell on to the women's face.

The women stirred.

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Someone was…crying.

Why was someone crying?

Was there something wrong?

Had she done something wrong again?

Opening her eyes, the women stared at he man who held her and wept into her hair.

The man…had wings.

Huge, bird like wings, that were whiter than the whitest snow.

Her eyes widen.

Was he an angel?

She felt amazed.

An angel! A real angel! Here! Holding me!

But…why on earth was the angel crying?

Angel's shouldn't cry! Angel's should be happy, not sad.

Was it…for her?

A part of herself, called her a fool.

No angel would cry for her!

But…still….

An angel…

She smiled.

A really, live, angel.

Gently, she reached out and touched the angel's wings.

They were so soft…

She let out a small 'eeppp!' as the angel's head snapped up, looking at her in shock.

He open his mouth, then closed it again, seemingly unable to make out a single word, even as tears continued to fall down his face.

Frowning, the women cupped his face and wiped away the tears.

"Please don't cry Mr. Angel. Angel's shouldn't cry…"

The angel stilled, and looked at her small hands, before slowly moving his own and hands to grasps her face.

She blinked.

"Your…," the angle choked out. "Your…_alive_."

She stared, confused. "Um….yes?"

The angle laughed, his wings flaring out with joy and for a moment, it seemed as though the heavens themselves were singing to her.

"Your alive! Your alive!"

He laughed and laughed, as he joyfully picked her up and spun her around and around until she felt dizzy before finally he stopped and hugged her close.

Surprised, she just sort of hanged there as he hugged her and continued to whisper "Your alive, your alive!"

She…didn't know what was going on, but it felt…nice that someone was so happy to see her alive.

She hugged him back, and he buried his face into her hair and squeezed.

Very nice, she though with a smile.

* * *

So...I haven't updated in like, a month or so...and this update actually has nothing to do with main story line but..._I'm so sorry! I hope you guys like the story even though it's really sad but I like how it turned out anyway and-and- and don't kill me! I'M SORRY I SWEAR!_

Really though, the point of this chapter was one: to give me time to work on the main story line, and two: to give you all some background on the characters. I was going to add this in later, after the main story line ended or something but...yeah, I felt bad, it been a month...T-T

Also, this whole background chapter thing sort of destroy's my other background about Leo being a Texan, but oh well. He's actually a lot older then- well, the U.S., seeing as he's Cupid, who's a God and what not...still not as old as the Spirits of Old, but still. Let's just say he likes Texas for some reason okay? Okay. :)

By the way, I reallllllyyyyy like this paring now. I wrote my own dam OTP. Lol.

As for why I haven't actually updated well...my parents just went though/had been going through a divorce and between them and my homework and- well, everything else in life, I just didn't write much of anything this past month.

Although I would like to point out that this whole sad as hell post/chapter idea-wise was already in the making before all this happened.

Anyway...what did you all think? If you liked it, let me know so I can post more about how them if you guys like! And, let me know if you see any errors!


	20. The Elites

The Universe was once filled with ancient spirits.

Spirits of Old, like The Wind or The Sand.

There were thousands of us- millions even.

A spirit for every tree, every rock, every _being_.

We were _alive._

Now- now it is only us few that remain.

The ones you know as The Spirits of Old.

In those times we were the Leaders, Jack.

The Rulers, The Guardians.

The Elites

There were twelve of us.

Twelve rulers of the universe, twelve bringers of the Gold Age, who kept the balance and protected the peace.

We were The Wind, The Water, The Fire, The Earth, The Darkness, The Light, The Stars.

Life, Death, Time, Order, Chaos-

We were and still are these things.

Where is The Sand you say? Hush child, and you shall learn.

The Wind lead The Four Great Winds along with countless other wisps of air across billions of planets, bringing the air and wind necessary for the living.

The Water ruled over the seas and oceans of the stars and land, while The Earth lead nature in all its might.

I commanded the flames and brought light to the dark, working closely with The Light to in sure that those who needed us were always helped.

The Darkness brought the night, working well to ensure that the balance was kept- I admire the spirit for that, for the time spent with out The Darkness was ill and out of balance. It was good of The Sand to find it.

Life, Death, Time, Order, Chaos- they worked together to make sure the laws of the universe are followed.

Now The Stars- that was The Sand, you silly boy. The Sand was once something much more- _so much more_ than that.

Haven't you wondered of the warmth you felt or of the beautiful gold The Sand shines with? Haven't you ever question its power or why Sandman is considered in such high regard?

Haven't you ever wondered about the Shooting Stars?

One does not mess with The Stars little ice- though it is The Sand now, the matter still stands.

But…that was a long time ago.

We no longer rule the being we once were…

We are…weak. Lost little things that do not belong here- yet for billions of years we stay, despite our loss. That is something, no? We may no longer guide The Golden Age, but we are still here, helping Earth- protecting this planet.

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Why did we fall you ask?

That is a matter of opinion little one. ..

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_The Darkness? What do you mean you found an Elite?_

_What in the world is **that **supposed to be?_

_I don't think I made myself clear. **I **make the rules here, and I say it stays. Do you understand me Fire?_

_Keepers? What the hell is a keeper?_

_Look at what you have done! We are Spirits, not creators! You have made an abomination!_

_**These **__are __**my**__ children, and I will __**not **__let you __**harm them**__!_

_The Stars should have never have let you out! Your destroying the balance of our world!_

_Maybe these "children" are so bad. Perhaps…?_

_What have you done?!_

**_Fire! Stop!_**

_Your killing it, stop, stop!_

_By order of __**The Elites**__, you are here by to be sealed, on grounds of being a threat to Gold Age and its people. _

…_.I'm sorry._


End file.
